


Sammy Needs To Get Laid

by femmenerd



Series: Glimpses 'verse [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-30
Updated: 2006-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenerd/pseuds/femmenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set early in the same ‘verse as my Faith/Dean (& Sam) fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1232683/chapters/2528110">Glimpses</a>, but no real spoilers for that other than, um, Faith and Dean screw like weasels and the three of them wander around killing demons. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod! Your hands are amazing. Sam Winchester, has anyone ever told you before that you’d make a fantastic lesbian?</i></p><p> </p><p>Originally posted on LJ <a href="http://femmenerd.livejournal.com/116199.html">[here].</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sammy Needs To Get Laid

When Sam gets back to the motel the next afternoon, Faith and Dean are drinking a six-pack and playing cards. Dean’s accusing Faith of cheating—loudly—when Sam cracks open the door, so they don’t even notice him come in at first. 

“There’s no way in hell you could get a hand like that by chance, woman. You’re using magic, aren’t you? Fuckin’ cheater.” Sam can practically see the smoke coming out of Dean’s ears as he straddles his chair wearing nothing but a scowl and a pair of boxer-briefs. 

“How many times I gotta tell you this? I’m a vampire slayer, not a witch.” Faith’s grinning and smoking no-handed, clutching her cards to her chest. She’s got on one of Dean’s T-shirts and apparently nothing else. Sam hopes there are some panties under there but he’s not about to check. 

“Jesus Christ, you guys, what did I tell you about playing strip poker when I’m around?” Sam calls out good-naturedly as he drops his jacket on the sofa. Nothing can mess with his good mood right now, and for once, being the third wheel to their combined immaturity isn’t even the teensiest bit annoying. Not today. Dean’s right—sex really does improve your outlook on life. 

“Sammy!” Faith exclaims, taking a swig off of her beer and looking up. “We were about to call out a search party. You’ve been gone for _so long_." 

Sam blushes at the (correct) implication of her words. But he turns an even deeper shade of pink when Dean discontinues his grumbling to grin up at him, giving Sam a one-handed thumbs up. “It’s about time, little brother. You were getting _wicked_ tense.”

Sam avoids directly responding to Dean’s ribbing, shooting back instead with, “Dean, we’re from Kansas. Saying ‘wicked’ is for Yanks. Just yet another sign of how fucking whipped you’ve become.”

“Dude, whatever, you’re just jealous that I’m getting action on a regular basis. Seriously, I was gettin’ concerned about your well-being, man. Thought any day now your dick was just gonna _fall off_.” 

Dean starts laughing hysterically at his own semi-joke but Sam ignores him, wandering over and claiming one of their beers as his own. “You freaks owe me this. Now, what are we playing? Deal me in,” Sam retorts, grabbing a chair for himself. 

“Eh, we’ll switch to gin rummy for you, Sammy. Think that’s more your speed.”

“You can’t get to me right now, Dean. So don’t even try. And let me shuffle. You still suck at that.” Sam collects the cards and starts doing elaborate fans and tricks, contorting the stack. As he looks down at his hands, Sam can’t help thinking about what Jeanine said about them and he lets out a little choking sound. 

He’d been working her up with his fingers, staring with rapt attention at every twitch and contortion of her pretty face, trying to memorize the freckles across the bridge of her nose as he made her come. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod! Your hands are _amazing_. Sam Winchester, has anyone ever told you before that you’d make a fantastic lesbian?”

Sam’s eyes had opened wide at that and his mouth dropped slack. “Do you, um, do you have much experience with that sort of thing?” he coughed out, feeling like a big dork. 

She’d laughed a silvery laugh and swung her long, shiny brown hair around as she rose to straddle him. “Oh, I know a little. College, you know?”

“Right, right,” Sam remembers mumbling, having grown inarticulate from the way she was handling his cock—a light fluttering touch just before surprising him with a series of good, firm squeezes. Why exactly had he been celibate for so long? 

Sam snaps back into the present tense when he hears Dean in the distance, looking at him curiously now, quirking a brow and saying, “That good, huh?”

“Yeah, Sam, how was she? Spill. It’s been ages since I’ve gotten down with girl—I could use a vicarious thrill,” Faith says, shooting Dean a taunting look. 

Dean rushes and tackles her, tickling her sides until Faith’s giggles deteriorate into snorts. “Shut your trap, Wildcat. You _know_ I keep you satisfied. Fuck, the whole motel should know it by now.”

While they’re kissing with a good deal too much tongue for polite company, Sam says, “Well, _I’m_ definitely forced to be aware of it, at least.” Then he starts to deal. 

Faith cackles and pushes Dean off her with one effortless thrust of her arms, getting up to wrap them around Sam’s shoulders. “Right _on_ , Sammy,” she whispers affectionately into his ear. “S’good to see you chipper like this.” Then she disentangles herself and pats him on the back, sitting back down and picking up her cards.

Dean shakes his head like a wet dog, still splayed out on the floor. He jumps up in one fluid motion and bounces on the balls of his feet like he’s a champion boxer or something, instead of a half-naked guy getting drunk before 5 PM. “Come on, Sam. Not letting you get outta this without ‘fessing up at least _one_ detail.”

Sam smiles to himself, smushing his lips together and looking up into his eyebrows. What would he be willing to tell them? He ponders. 

Sam doesn’t think he could get most of it out without stammering. Definitely not the way Jeanine whispered his name like a litany as he thrust into her from behind. And certainly not the way she rode him, tits bouncing as he panted below. So instead Sam just smiles smugly at his brother and says, “No way, dude. I’m a _gentleman._ ”

Dean gives him the mother of all “Dean looks” and remarks placidly, “No, Sam. You’re just lame.” 

Sam’s lucky streak appears to be on the up and up, ‘cause he beats the pants off both Faith and Dean for the next three hands. Well, he would have if they were _wearing pants_. Anyway, he’s trumping them good. Giddy on victory and exhausted, post-coital bliss, Sam accidentally slips and turns to Faith, asking, “Hey Faith, did you always know you were bi?”

Faith smirks into her hand as Dean slams his palm down, shaking the table as he bursts out with, “Fuck, Sammy. I _knew_ it. Found yourself a wild one, huh? Dude, chicks who dig chicks are hot, aren’t they, bro?”

Sam bites his tongue. He loves his brother, but fuck, Dean’s got a nasty mouth. He’s not exactly wrong though…

But Faith comes to his rescue, swatting Dean on the arm and saying, “Leave the kid alone, Tiger. He’s just trying to distract us from our inevitable come back.”

In that moment, Sam couldn’t be more glad that he’s got someone else around to help out with the project of keeping Dean’s mania in check. And he’s equally glad that he’s got a brother who loves him enough to be overly invested in whether he gets laid—boundary crossing or not.

Yeah, it’s a good day. A good fucking day. Sam’s got to savor those, considering all the shit the world throws at them the rest of the time.


End file.
